


Gonna Keep A Gryphon Ya

by CydSA



Series: Sterek - Mythteries [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Canon Typical Violence, Established Relationship, M/M, gryphons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:45:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1688834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CydSA/pseuds/CydSA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two eggs in one lifetime. Not possible, right? Right? Wrong. Mated for all eternity to his boo, Derek “I’m the Alpha” Hale, Stiles really didn’t need another dragon. This wasn’t a dragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gonna Keep A Gryphon Ya

**Author's Note:**

> Extremely silly sequel to [ Go Dragon My Heart Around ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1170526). I reckon you should probably read that first. I am asking forgiveness for the utter bastardisation of all lyrics & song titles. And I’m really not mocking people with lisps. I promise. I am however, utterly ashamed of myself.
> 
> Awesome fanmix by Valress here : http://valress.livejournal.com/86184.html

It Goes Like Th’Ith

This shit was totally not Stiles’ fault.

He stared at the egg. Fuck his life.

Derek answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles gave the phone a hard glare, sure that Derek would totally feel it through cyberspace. Mobilespace. Space. The Final Frontier. “Why does something have to be wrong?” Stiles felt a little insulted. “I could just be calling to say 'heeyyy' to my growly boo.”

“First, don’t call me that if you want sex ever again,” Derek told him. “And second, what the fuck is wrong, Stiles?”

“Um, remember the last time I found something in the preserve?” Stiles thought he’d lead with a question.

Derek made a pained sound. “Please, dear God, tell me you haven’t found another dragon?” Stiles possibly may have waited too long to reply. “Stiles?” The growl made Stiles feel a little tingly.

“What?” Stiles was maybe a little distracted. It wasn’t his fault that his boyfriend was hot enough to fry his brain cells.

“Is. It. Another. Dragon?” Derek spat the words out like nails.

Stiles looked at the egg. “I didn’t touch it,” he assured Derek. “No touching, I swear.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Stiles could practically hear Derek’s glower. “I’m on my way,” he said and disconnected the call.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Stiles told the trees. “No need to worry about me, just sitting here in the preserve, waiting for my second egg to hatch.” He leveled a stare at the egg. “No hatching!” he ordered.

“Why are you talking to me?” Stiles spun around to face the speaker. He couldn’t see anyone.

“Who’s there?” he asked, proud that his voice only wobbled a little.

“I’m in the egg,” the voice told him. “I’ve not hatched yet.”

“Oh god,” Stiles groaned. “I really don’t want to have another dragon. I’m barely over losing Nakakem, lying little beast who told me I’d forget her.” He stopped. “Wait, you’re _in_ the egg?” That hadn’t happened before.

“I’m not a dragon!” The voice sounded indignant. “Dragons are fickle creatures. Once I hatch, I will be loyal to you forever.”

“Uh,” Stiles said, mind racing. He tried to calculate how long it would take Derek to get here. The Hale house wasn’t too far away, and he’d left Derek there to brood in solitude while he took a walk to collect some obscure herbs that Deaton had decided he needed. 

He was totally Merlin, and Deaton was Gaius. Only with less charm. And grey hair. That meant that Derek was probably Arthur, which made him a prat. Heh.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice brought him out of his mental side-trip to Arthurian England. 

“Hey.” He beamed at Derek. “How you doin', my prince?”

Derek looked confused. “What?”

Stiles waved a hand, “Never mind.” He pointed at the egg. “It’s talking to me,” he told Derek.

A flash of red told Stiles that he’d better tread lightly. “It’s what?” Derek growled. His claws were extended a heartbeat later.

Stiles stepped in front of him. “Whoa, hold up Mr. Kill-first-ask-questions-later. We have no idea what’s in the egg.”

Derek looked unconvinced. “Remember what happened the last time?” He glared at the egg as though it were personally responsible for the evils in the world.

“Sourwolf, we’re bonded, mated, glued together until death us do part. It’s not likely to be another dragon.” Stiles had been thinking hard about this. “Maybe it’s for someone else to find and open.” He hoped.

“I’m yours,” the egg-voice supplied helpfully. Stiles tried not to laugh as Derek spun wildly in circles, trying to find the owner of the voice.

“Egg. Talking. To. Me.” He thought maybe saying it clearly would sink in to the particularly stubborn Alpha brain.

“The egg is talking to me,” Derek said, eyes wide.

Stiles was very proud of himself. The urge to roll his eyes was almost impossible to resist. Werewolves sometimes took a little while to cotton on to things.

“Yup,” he said instead.

“What are you?” Derek demanded.

“I don’t know,” the voice sounded a little panicked. “I think I have a tail.”

“Oh god.” Derek rubbed a hand over his face.

“And wings,” the voice added. 

“It’s another fucking dragon!” Derek exclaimed, glaring at Stiles as though this was entirely his fault.

“I’m not a dragon!” the voice yelled back. The forest shook with the force of an unseen wind. Stiles was totally impressed. His egg was badass.

“How do you know you’re _not_ a dragon, if you don’t know _what_ you are?” Stiles asked. This was a riddle that was going to get confusing.

“I don’t have scales,” the voice said. “I have fur.” There was a brief pause. “And feathers.”

Stiles and Derek stared at each other. “Fur _and_ feathers?” Stiles just wanted to make entirely sure.

“Yes,” the voice was subdued. “I’m a freak, aren’t I?”

For some crazy reason, Stiles wanted to pick up the egg and cuddle it. From the murderous glare Derek was sending him, it would not be a good idea. “I’m sure you’re perfectly normal for whatever you are,” Stiles assured it.

“This is fucking insane,” Derek glowered. 

Stiles propped his hands on his hips. “I don’t exactly go wandering through life, looking for ways to make yours difficult,” he said, finally getting mad. “I was picking fucking herbs for Deaton and found this!” He flung an arm out in the general direction of the egg. “Don’t get pissy with me, dude.”

“So how come this sort of shit always happens to you, Stilinski?” Derek’s face was inches away now. Stiles could appreciate the pretty without losing the thread of his anger.

“How the fuck should I know?” Stiles demanded. 

“Excuse me?” the voice broke into their argument.

“What?” they both yelled at the same time.

“Um, I think my shell is cracking,” the voice offered. 

Hard’Ith’t of Hearts

“You aren’t a dragon,” Derek sounded surprised.

“I _told_ you.” The little beast-thing was already way too full of attitude. Stiles adored it. It actually spoke actual words out of a wicked-looking beak, unlike Nakakem’s mental speech. It looked a little like a kitten with wings and an eagle’s head.

“What are you then?” Typical Derek, Stiles thought, needing everything in black and white. So boring. Stiles was literally bouncing on his feet, impatient to take his new furry-bird-buddy to meet the rest of the pack. 

“I don’t know.” The sorrow was palpable and Stiles couldn’t resist a second more. He scooped the baby beast up in his arms and held it close to his chest. It rubbed its feathery head against Stiles’ chin, making a sort of chirping growling sound. Stiles cooed a little. Shut up, the baby-bird-beast-thing was fucking adorable. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out,” he promised.

Derek’s eyebrows actually formed one long line of angry hair. Stiles wanted to comment on it but reckoned his life wasn’t worth it. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Stiles.” Stiles could virtually hear Derek’s teeth grinding.

“I wonder what I should call you,” Stiles mused as he headed out of the preserve, back towards the Hale house. Derek was close at his heels, eyes fixed firmly on Stiles’ new baby.

“I have a name,” the bird-beast offered. 

“You do?” Stiles almost tripped over a tree-root, and only Derek’s wolfy reflexes saved him. “Thanks babe,” he threw over his shoulder. Derek’s eyebrows stayed firmly in one frowny line. They looked like those large furry caterpillars that came out in the summer and usually ended up as orange worm-juice on his tires.

“I am Ith the Dark One,” the bird-beast said.

Stiles stared at it. “Ith?” He wanted to make sure he’d heard right. “Your name is Ith?” There were about a million jokes there, but Stiles wasn’t sure it was appropriate right now.

“The Dark One,” Ith added, sounding terribly proud. “Ith the Dark One.”

“How can you know who you are but not know _what_ you are?” Derek demanded, crowding up behind Stiles, peering over his shoulder at Ith.

“How should I know?” Ith glared right back at Derek, eyes gold and annoyed. “I’m a baby.”

“I think Ith is an _awesome_ name,” Stiles assured it. 

“It sounds like it has a lisp,” Derek stated.

Stiles fixed him with a look. “Dude,” he said.

Derek shoved Stiles forward. “Come on, we need to get you to a computer so that you can tell me what this is.”

“My name is **Ith the Dark One**!” the bird-beast bellowed. The entire forest trembled. Stiles and Derek both froze. “Stop talking about me like I’m something insignificant!”

Derek was pale. “Holy shit,” Stiles breathed. “Ith just totally owned you, dude.”

Now Ith The Time

Lydia and Jackson were at the house when Stiles and Derek arrived with Ith. “Why do you have a baby gryphon in your arms?” Lydia asked, barely glancing up from filing her nails.

Stiles stared at her. “A gryphon?” he squeaked, looking down at Ith. “I’ve hatched a gryphon?” Stiles was annoyed with himself. Of course Ith was a gryphon. He totally should have aced this one. Sex with Derek obviously messed with his usually awesome braininess. 

“ _You_ hatched?” 

Stiles sighed, mentally banging his head against a wall. Figures Jackson would focus on that, smirk annoying on his irritating face. Stiles wanted to hit him. 

“Well, Stilinski, that explains so very, very much about you.”

Flipping Jackson off while holding a baby gryphon was impossible, so Stiles had to settle for sticking his tongue out. Which, hey maturity, what the fuck ever. “My gryphon’s name is Ith.”

Jackson sneered, “Sounds like you have a lisp.” Stiles _really_ wanted to flip him off now.

“Fuck you,” he said instead. Ith’s tail whipped against his arm. Stiles tried to hide the wince. It stung like fuck.

Jackson clutched at his heart. “Oh, my god, Stiles!” he gasped. “You’ve hurt me so much with your stupid words.”

“Oh for god’s sake, shut the fuck up,” Derek growled at them both. 

Lydia put her nail file away. “Well?” she demanded. “Bring the gryphon to me.” She lifted her hands, wiggling her fingers. Stiles reluctantly placed Ith in her arms. “So your name is Ith, huh?” She reached under Ith’s chin and scratched lightly. “There must be more to it,” she said. “Gryphons have titles as well.”

Stiles swore that Ith preened. “I am Ith the Dark One,” the gryphon declared.

“Boy or girl?” Lydia asked, still scratching.

“Boy,” Ith said. “I mean, male.” Stiles hid a smile behind his hand. Not only human males were susceptible to Lydia’s considerable charms, he thought. Then scowled. Kanima slash werewolf hybrids weren’t humans. 

“Does your name have meaning?” Lydia asked. Stiles was getting a little bit mad at himself for not asking the right questions.

“It is because of my family,” Ith said, settling in Lydia’s lap. “They fought in the Gryphon Wars millennia ago and because of their great bloodshed, they were given the title of the Dark Ones.” 

“Gryphon Wars?” Stiles sat down on the other side of Lydia, ignoring the surly lip-curl Jackson sent his way. “There were wars with gryphons? Who did they fight?”

Ith looked over at him, eyes bright with intelligence. “They fought the unicorns,” he said. Stiles could almost see the disdain on the bird-like face. “Filthy creatures.” 

“I’m guessing that unicorns are not your favorites,” Stiles grinned as Ith crawled out of Lydia’s lap and hunkered down in his. 

“All of the horse families, Pegasii, Hippogriff and Unicorn, conspired against the Gryphons to wipe us out of existence.” Ith looked enraged at the memory of his history. “If not for the assistance of the Chimeras, we would be extinct.”

“Wait a minute.” Stiles stopped stroking the feathery-furry back and stared at Ith. “All of those animals are real?”

“ _Were_ real,” Ith corrected with something like satisfaction in his tone. “Only the gryphons remain.”

“And dragons,” Stiles mused, fingers trailing again between snowy feathers and tawny fur.

Ith looked up at him, eyes wide. “You have seen dragons?” He sounded breathlessly excited at the thought.

“ _A_ dragon,” Stiles said. “She hatched to ensure that Derek and I mated.”

“You are the mate of the Alpha?” Ith looked over to where Derek was still standing with his arms folded across his chest, scowling. “Is he worthy?” Ith’s tone suggested he didn’t think so.

“Is he..?” Derek’s face went red with annoyance. Stiles grinned. Derek's face totally matched his eyes.

“He’s totally worthy,” Stiles assured Ith quickly. “Plus he’s kinda gorgeous, in case you missed it.”

Ith sniffed. “He looks acceptable for a wolf.”

“Not. A. Wolf.” Derek gritted. Stiles was totally keeping Ith forever. Annoying Derek these days tended to get him sexiled. Having Ith do the annoying was going to be so sweet.

Ith’s front claws dug into Stiles’ thigh. “Does he bring you fresh meat? Make sure you have enough water to drink? Does he protect you and - ”

“Whoah, little dude,” Stiles patted the back that had fluffed up, fur oozing into ruffled feathers. “Me and my grouchy boo over there, we’re really happy together.” He winked at Derek. “What he lacks in manly skills, he more than makes up for in private.”

Jackson groaned and stuck his fingers in his ears. “Fuck you, Stilinksi, and the horse you fucking rode in on. What have we told you about sharing shit like that?”

“There’s a horse?” Ith lurched off Stiles’ lap and launched himself into the air, flapping frantically at the invisible equine.

Derek started jumping up, trying to grab hold of the gryphon. Lydia snagged one of Jackson’s ears and twisted hard, glaring him into submission while he yelped. Stiles sat and watched the melee. God, he loved his life sometimes. 

Ith He Really Going Out With Him? 

Stiles headed back home without Derek.

Once Ith had established that there was no immediate horsey danger, he’d nipped Jackson’s finger with his sharp beak. That had started another round of yelling and swearing, and it had ended when Ith had hurtled into Stiles’ arms for safety.

Derek wondered out loud how tasty gryphons were. Stiles was horrified. Derek told him to leave. Stiles did. 

Stiles hated sleeping alone.

Ith curled up on the passenger seat. He was about the size of a big cat, except you know, with wings. And the head of an eagle. “Your mate has a temper,” Ith observed.

Stiles glanced over at him. “You really didn’t help with that,” he muttered.

“I’m only a baby,” Ith protested. 

Stiles scowled. “You do realize that you’re not going to be able to play that card any more, right?” Like dragons, it seemed as though gryphons hatched fully aware.

Golden eyes just got bigger. “I don’t understand,” Ith said.

“Liar,” Stiles said, poking a finger into the bristly fur covering his back. “What’s your deal with Derek anyway?”

Ith dropped his head onto his front paws. “Wolves are not trustworthy,” he said.

“Derek is like the trustworthy king of trustworthiness,” Stiles assured him. “He’s risked his life for me more times than I can remember. Plus, he’s my true mate. We have been bound by the trials of Sodalis after all.”

Ith looked interested. “That was when you hatched your dragon?” 

Stiles nodded. “I don’t remember too much about Nakakem anymore,” he admitted. “She told me I would eventually forget her, but it seems wrong, you know?”

Ith nodded. “It is as it should be, though,” he said. “Dragons have many lives.”

Stiles had a mini freak-out. “Are you also going to die on me in like five minutes?” he asked.

Ith shook his head. “No, gryphons live but one lifetime. Now that I am hatched, I am part of your pack.” He didn’t look terribly happy at the prospect. “Of course, a gryphon being a part of a wolf-pack is unheard of.” He sighed. “I’m not sure how I’m going to explain this to my family.”

Stiles stopped the Jeep. “You have a family?” He had visions of a bunch of fully-grown gryphons flying into Beacon Hills one day and scaring the ever-living crap out of everyone.

Ith looked offended. “I have parents! I didn’t hatch from nothing you know.”

Stiles started Blue Betty again. “You hatched from an egg,” he agreed, heading for home. “I didn’t see what laid the egg.”

Ith bristled even more. “My father laid my egg, as gryphons do.”

Stiles almost swallowed his tongue. “Your _father_?”

Ith nodded. “It’s always been the male of the species that carries the young.”

Stiles tried to ignore this. He really didn’t need to spend any time thinking about a boy gryphon laying an egg. His imagination was a scary thing. Instead, he focused on the family issue. “So, how come your parents weren’t around when you hatched?” He turned into the driveway and switched off the engine. “Why did they abandon you?”

Ith stood up on the seat. “Gryphons do not need their parents to coddle them,” he said. “Once we hatch, we are expected to provide for ourselves until old age.”

Stiles pushed the car door open and scooped Ith up under his arm. “What is old age to a gryphon?” he asked, fumbling for his house key.

“Well, the oldest I know of is one of the Fair Haven kin in Europe. He’s over one thousand years old,” Ith said. Stiles let his arm go slack in shock.

Ith squawked in annoyance, barely catching flight before he hit the ground.

“Over a thousand?” Stiles thought he was going to pass out. “You _do_ realize that humans don’t live that long?” Ith followed him inside, hovering at his shoulder.

“Of course I know that,” Ith smacked Stiles’ neck with his tail. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Hey!” Stiles protested. “You said you’d be mine forever.”

Ith flew to his dad’s favorite chair, dropped down and settled in. “I’ll be your family’s forever,” he corrected, crossing his front legs primly, huge paws flexing. Stiles knew that his gryphon was going to end up being _way_ bigger than his dragon. “I am now Ith the Dark One of House Stilinski.”

“Oh god,” his dad said from the kitchen door, dropping his coffee mug.

All My M’Ithtakes 

Explaining yet another mythical creature coming home with him wasn’t easy. Stiles was sort of insulted that his dad suggested that it was all his fault.

“So not fair!” he protested. “I can’t help it if I’m like catnip for magic.”

Ith gave an inelegant snort. He’d scooted from the easy chair when Stiles’ dad had leveled a look at him. “Your history suggests otherwise.”

Stiles frowned, momentarily distracted from his objections. “What? How do you know anything about my history? You’ve just hatched, remember?” He may have been in audible-to-bat's-only territory by then.

His dad gave him a look. Patented Stilinski, it shut Stiles up faster than anything. Except maybe Derek’s cock. Stiles mourned the fact that his boyfriend wasn’t with him to face the music. “Would you care to give me the Cliff Notes version of what has happened this time?” His dad sounded weary. He sounded like that a lot around Stiles and his wolfy business.

Stiles folded his arms defensively. “Walking in the forest. Tripped over an egg. This happened.” He flung an arm out to indicate Ith.

His dad’s nostrils flared. Stiles sensed danger. Ith obviously did too, because a moment later, Stiles had a baby gryphon flapping his wings in front of him, screaming a warning cry at his dad. “Uh,” Stiles said. 

“He’s threatening you!” Ith exclaimed. “It’s my duty to defend you.” The sound coming out of his throat was a weird combination of growl and scream. “I will rend him limb from limb!” Stiles paused to consider how something the size of a very large domestic cat would tear a grown man apart. 

He shook the thought away. “”Ith, buddy, this is my dad. He’s the coolest of the cool. And we _never_ threaten him with grievous bodily harm, ok?” Stiles patted the ridge that had formed on Ith’s back.

“Never?” Ith asked, turned his head towards Stiles, sounding a little disappointed. 

“Never,” Stiles reiterated. “Besides, I thought you were my family’s gryphon?”

Ith shrugged a feathery shoulder. “I’m yours first. My duty is to protect you no matter what.” He sent a beady glance towards Stiles’ dad. “No matter who.”

Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I really don’t need another over-protective, judgmental asshole in my life.”

“So that would be Derek and..?” His dad’s voice was silky smooth. Stiles could sense the trap ahead. He was wily like that.

“Ith, of courth.” Stiles couldn’t help the grin when he teased with the little lisp. Ith didn’t look impressed. He stalked to the sofa and leaped up onto it. Stiles watched as he made several circles until he found the right spot to lie down.

“You’re going to be annoying with this aren’t you?” His dad rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Stiles liked to think that the well-worn path there was the Stiles Road of Irritation.

“I’ll try to keep it to a bare minimum,” Stiles offered. 

His dad looked skeptical. “Your ability to restrain yourself is something I sincerely doubt. I have yet to see any evidence of it whatsoever.”

Stiles gasped. “Daddy-O, you know I’m the epitome of restraint.” He grinned again. “I mean, I manage not to jump Derek in front of you. That surely gives me points, right?”

His dad grimaced. “I can go centuries not having you share these little gems with me, Stiles. Eons, even.”

There was a knock at the door. Stiles knew who it was just by the tug in the mate-bond. “Come on down, Boo-Bear!”

Derek’s expression was a cross between annoyance and long-suffering. “You really don’t like your life too much do you?” he asked.

Stiles waved a hand at the suddenly huffy Ith. “It’s Derek’s way of showing love,” he assured his gryphon. “He has some issues with demonstrating to the general world that I’m his one and only. But I know how he really feels.”

Ith’s eyes narrowed. “He should treat you with care,” he stated, golden eyes fixed on Derek.

“When he’s not being an idiot, I treat him very well,” Derek said, stepping forward to shake Stiles’ dad’s hand. “Sir.”

“Derek.” His dad looked between them. “Please tell me that there are no freaky mate bond ritual things going to happen this time around.”

Derek shrugged. “I have no idea what this means.” Stiles went to Derek then, wrapped his arm around his waist and slotted into the space that nature seemed to have made especially for him.

“We should call Deaton,” Stiles wasn’t ever gung-ho about getting Deaton involved. It usually meant the situation would get even _more_ confusing.

“I did,” Derek admitted. He dropped his arm across Stiles’ shoulders, the gesture so comfortable and instinctual that it still made Stiles a little giddy. “He’s on it.”

Ith made a grumpy little noise from his spot on the sofa. “I don’t see what the problem is,” he muttered into his forelegs. “I’m here. I’m yours. What is the issue?”

Stiles’ dad went to sit on the chair opposite Ith. “Well, the last time we had a magical egg hatch, it caused a few problems.” Stiles realized that his dad was being really careful with the little dude.

“But I’m here to help, not to cause trouble,” Ith protested, lion-like tail whipping backwards and forwards. “I’m not a dragon!”

Stiles hid a smile. “We just want to make sure that your coming here isn’t the start of some new set of problems,” Derek said, just as gently. Stiles felt his heart thump a little harder. Derek’s hand squeezing his neck told him he’d picked up on that.

Ith sighed. “Whatever,” he said. “I’m hungry.”

Don’t Wanna M’Ith A Thing 

Turned out that baby gryphons ate the same thing big gryphons did. Rabbits. Derek refused point blank. Stiles sent a desperate text to Erica. 

_have bb gryphon. wants rabbit food. actual rabbits. help._

Her text came back a moment later. 

_WTF???_

“I’m asking Erica to take Ith into the preserve to hunt for bunnies,” Stiles told Derek.

“What?” Derek’s oncoming rant was interrupted by Stiles’ phone howling at him again.

 _srsly asshole. WTAF???_

Stiles grinned. Erica was his favorite.

“I can hunt?” Ith sounded far too excited at the prospect.

Stiles grimaced. “One of Derek’s betas is about as bloodthirsty as you, little dude. I think you’ll get along famously.”

 _ANSWER ME DICKFACE!_

The emoticons following the words were ones Stiles hadn’t seen before. Erica had been porning on the net again.

 _you on your way yet?_ he texted back instead.

 _on my way to END you, fuckduck_

Erica’s threats had stopped scaring Stiles years ago.

 _oh baby, you talk so sweet to me_ Stiles could practically feel her rage.

“Do you think she’s texting while wolfing?” Stiles asked Derek.

Stiles’ dad frowned. “Wouldn’t her claws get in the way?”

“That’s why you are the best dad to ever dad,” Stiles beamed at him.

“I hate everything,” Derek muttered, flopping down onto the sofa and reaching over to stroke Ith’s back.

Stiles watched the gryphon struggle between bliss at the stroking and objection at it being Derek doing the stroking. Pleasure won out over morality when Ith snuck onto Derek’s lap with a chirping purr that should not have been that cute.

The back door banged open, and Erica roared in, followed closely by Boyd. “Show me,” she demanded, still half wolf. Stiles turned his head away as her fur started retracting. 

“Erica, I love you like my own, but you’d better start carrying clothes with you,” Stiles’ dad pulled off his jacket and dropped it over her shoulders.

Erica smiled her thanks. “Sorry, Sheriff, but your asshole son sent me a cryptic message about a gry - Holy fucking shit, that’s a fucking gryphon!”

Stiles’ dad winced. “And on that charming note, I’m going to have a shower and then head to bed.”

“What about dinner?” Stiles called after him.

“I ate at the station,” his dad didn’t turn around. 

Stiles was immediately suspicious. “You’d better have eaten carrot sticks and lettuce leaves!” he shouted.

“All vegetarian, all the way,” Stiles could hear the smile in his dad’s voice.

“Oh my god, you are the worst liar ever! Francine totally got you pizza!” Stiles was furious. “You’re going to die of a heart attack!”

“Because my son insists on playing with werewolves, not because I ate a slice of pizza!” His dad slammed his door.

“Stilinski, your dad is a badass,” Erica told him. She walked over to where Boyd was standing over Derek.

“You have a gryphon on your lap,” Boyd told Derek, just in case he wasn’t aware of it.

“Yup,” Derek said, fingers carding carefully through Ith’s snowy feathers.

“Okay,” Boyd shrugged, looking over at Erica. “Stiles wasn’t lying then.”

Erica sneered. “I guess I should have realized the weirdo who found a dragon would totally be the one to find a gryphon.”

“You make that sound like an insult,” Stiles mused, sitting on the arm of the sofa and rubbing at Derek’s neck. “I don’t think that I’m insulted though.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re-” she stopped abruptly at Derek’s low growl. “- the best human mate in the entire world,” she finished, mouth stretched in a Jokeresque smile. It was hilarious.

Stiles grinned at her. “Still getting used to me being above you on the totem pole, huh?”

“Stiles,” Derek sighed. “Try not to taunt the hormonal, angry werewolf girl.”

Ith was looking between them. “Your interaction isn’t normal, is it?” 

Stiles scrtiched into the soft hair at the base of Derek’s neck, smiling as Derek leaned into the touch. “There’s not much normal about us,” he agreed. “And now we have a gryphon!” 

Erica folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not hormonal,” she muttered.

Boyd leaned into her, eyes soft, and Stiles looked away. They were the toughest people he’d ever met, but when they looked at each other, no one else existed.

“I’m hungry,” Ith announced, standing up on Derek’s lap. Derek winced as sharp claws dug into his thighs.

Stiles scooped Ith up. “Be careful with that general area, little dude. That is my favorite Derek-part.”

Erica snorted a giggle, and even Boyd cracked a slow smile. “TMI, Stilinski.” Her eyes were dancing.

“Take Ith to the preserve, please, Ms Reyes. Show him the choicest bunny-hunting spots. And bring him home with nothing but himself,” Stiles ordered. “I don’t want to have to deal with animal guts on my kitchen floor ever again.”

“It was one fucking time!” Derek protested. “Can you please just let it go?”

Sleeping W’Ith A Friend

Stiles waited until the door closed behind Erica and Boyd before he slid off the arm of the sofa, and into Derek’s lap. “Sooo,” he drawled. “What do you think we can do to while away the time?” He tucked his hands around Derek’s neck and leaned into him, breathing onto his neck.

Derek was already hard beneath him. Stiles was delighted with the response. “Your dad,” Derek groaned, hips shifting.

Stiles nipped at Derek’s neck, enjoying the small moan. “We’ll be very, _very_ quiet,” he assured him.

“You can’t keep quiet, Stiles. Not even if your actual life depended on it.” Derek tilted his head back, allowing Stiles access.

“Shhh,” Stiles whispered against Derek’s skin. “Let me take care of you, babe.”

“Should be taking care of you,” Derek's voice was thick as Stiles slipped a hand into his jeans.

“Seriously, asshole, how many times have I asked you to get pants that do not constrict the cock I love to suck?” Stiles complained. He petted Derek's dick. “'S'okay baby, I've got you now,” he crooned.

“Are you talking to me or to my dick?” Derek asked a moment before Stiles made a twisting motion with his hand. He gasped and his hips bucked up reflexively.

“I like your dick,” Stiles admitted. “It gives me a lot of pleasure. I'd like to return the favor.”

Derek glared at him. It wasn't really effective, what with his mouth hanging open and sucking in a lungful of air at the same time. 

Stiles beamed at him. “I'm so stupid crazy about you and your grouchy attitude,” he confessed. “I want to do such bad things to you while you growl at me and tell me I'm an idiot.” He kept jacking Derek slowly as he spoke. “It makes me do dumb things when you tell me to shut up. I just want to talk even more, and get that particular rumble as a resp- ah, that's the one,” he slurred a little as Derek came hard across his hand and stomach.

Derek's eyes were a little hazy as he stared. “You never shut up, do you?”

Stiles shook his head. “Not when it gets me rewarded with you, under me, fucked out and gorgeous.” He leaned forward and kissed Derek. He kept it soft and dry. “I told you I could be quiet,” he murmured against Derek’s mouth.

Derek's big hand shoved down the back of Stiles' jeans without warning. Stiles barely had the chance to suck in the surprised yelp when one finger pressed at his hole.

“So pretty when you start getting cocky,” Derek murmured into Stiles' neck. 

“You love it when I'm cocky.” Stiles was going for assertive but his voice came out sort of breathless and high. It was still a source of embarrassment just how crazy Derek could make him.

Derek’s finger was dry and huge against Stiles’ hole. He squirmed against the insistent pressure. He knew Derek wouldn’t hurt him, but his body tensed up anyway. “The way you look,” Derek said, eyes dark and tinged with red. 

The mate-bond was practically purring. “Please,” Stiles begged, wanting Derek to move, to do something.

“What do you want?” Derek’s voice was sex-rough. Stiles shuddered. Derek pressed a little harder, Stiles’ body started to give in, give up. The pressure eased a little when Derek lifted his hand suddenly and spat on his fingers.

“You,” Stiles whispered. “Always you, only you.” When they were together like this, Stiles never got embarrassed about the things he said. Derek was his safe space. 

“Mine,” Derek’s low growl made Stiles press closer. He knew they were asking for trouble now, being together here, like this. His dad was a light sleeper. 

“Yours,” Stiles assured him and Derek’s finger breached him. He sucked in a breath, the intrusion sending a sharp bust of pleasure-pain shooting up his spine.

“You okay?” Derek asked.

“Yes,” Stiles hissed, moving his hips back onto Derek’s hand. “More.”

“No,” Derek told him. “You’re not ready, I don’t have anything with me and we’re in your fucking living room.”

Stiles stared at him. “You’re speaking words, but I’m hearing nothing. Your mouth moves, but there is silence.”

“Stiles,” Derek groaned when Stiles pushed down so that his finger sank to the first knuckle. 

Stiles panted a little. They never did this. Derek always made sure that Stiles was well-prepped, well-lubed and loose before he even attempted to finger him. “Want you.”

“No,” Derek’s tone wasn’t exactly steady, but Stiles could hear the command. “Not like this.”

“Derek,” Stiles dropped his forehead on Derek’s shoulder. “Please.”

He heard his whimper when Derek withdrew his finger. “Please,” he asked again.

“Shh,” Derek pressed a kiss against his temple. “I’ve got you.”

Then Derek’s hand was around his cock, hot and perfect, and Stiles sucked in a breath as his body clenched. “Fuck, shit, god, I love you.” All of Stiles' brain cells headed south, and he made Derek's stomach an even more disgusting area than before.

Derek pulled him close, chest to chest, messy groin to messier groin. “Me too,” he said.

“’M just closing my eyes for a seco…” 

Th’Ith Ith How You Remind Me

Being woken up from an incredibly sexy dream involving Derek, some whipped cream and several dozen strawberries was bad enough. Being woken up from said dream by a shrieking gryphon flapping around his head was way, way worse.

Once Stiles had managed to keep his heart inside his chest no thanks to his new pet, he shouted at Ith, “Calm the fuck down!”

The gryphon dropped to the bed, wings draping across the sheets and feathers drooping dramatically to the floor. “I’m bored,” he announced.

“Well I was sleeping,” Stiles kicked at Ith. “And about to get very lucky.”

“Were you dreaming of a treasure?” Ith asked, golden eyes gleaming. “I _love_ treasure.”

Stiles looked around the room but it was empty. Derek had obviously carried him up here sometime during the night and left in the early hours of the morning. 

“I guess you could call it treasure,” Stiles nodded, scooting up on his pillows so that Ith could have a little more room. “So how did the bloody bunny party go?”

The feathers on Ith’s fluffed up. “It was most excellent,” he said, and if beaks could smile….

“Ugh,” Stiles felt his stomach give a little wobble. “I think you need to become a vegetarian.”

Ith looked scandalized. “I could never be a proper gryphon if I only ate vegetables!” 

It seemed like he was about to start a little rant so Stiles grabbed his beak and held it shut. “Fine, I won’t force it,” Stiles said. “I just don’t know if the rabbit population can withstand the great purge.”

Ith dropped his head onto Stiles’ thigh, heaving a deep sigh. “I don’t eat much,” he said, lifting a claw to dig out god knows what from his beak. “A rabbit once a day will suffice.”

Stiles had a vision of the snake he'd owned when he was ten. He’d begged his dad for a snake and then howled in terror when it turned out that the snake had needed live food. He still had nightmares about that poor little mouse. He shuddered. “As long as I don’t see you masticating mammals, then we’re good.”

Ith rolled onto his back and kicked out his legs. “My belly could use a scratch,” he hinted.

Stiles sat on his bed, scratching the belly of his baby gryphon, wondering where his werewolf boyfriend was, and laughed at the absurdity of his life.

His dad poked his head in the door. “I’m heading out,” he said. “Pancakes on the stove and bacon in the oven.”

“Bacon?” Stiles narrowed his eyes. 

“Macon, facon, whatever the hell that disgusting replacement meat is,” his dad muttered. “I’ll see you later?”

“Love you!” Stiles called after him.

“Love you too!” his dad called back.

Stiles grinned. “Pancakes and bacon are the best,” he told Ith, jumping out of bed.

“Do gryphons eat pancakes?” Ith followed him down the stairs, wings folded neatly behind his shoulder blades.

“I haven’t a clue,” Stiles admitted. “We can only try.”

The coffee pot was still warm and Stiles poured his first hit of the day. Ith curled his lip…beak?...at the coffee. “That smells vile,” he said.

“You have no idea what you’re missing,” Stiles said, pouring rivers of syrup over the pancakes. He took one and put it on a plate, added syrup and bacon and put it on the floor. “Try this.”

Ith looked down at the plate and then up at him. “On the floor?” he asked. “You seriously want me to eat off the floor?” Obviously time spent with Erica had increased the already huge 'tude.

Stiles gaped at him. “You want to eat at the table?” He tried to wrap his head around it.

“I’m not an animal!” Ith was visibly indignant, feathers ruffled.

“Fine!” Stiles hurriedly picked up the plate and put it on the small kitchen table. “Have at it.”

He watched in fascination as Ith attacked the pancake. It was like watching a car crash: revolting, but you couldn’t look away. “That is disgusting,” he said once Ith had demolished the food.

“It’s delicious!” Ith declared. “Gryphons clearly love pancakes.”

Stiles shook his head. “That was severely disturbing.” His phone growled at him. It annoyed Derek so much that Stiles had kept the wolfy ringtone on purpose. “Thanks for creeping out like McStealthy in the night, Sourwolf,” Stiles groused when he answered. “Made me feel like Julia Roberts in _Pretty Woman_.”

“God” Derek groaned. “Can’t you just say hello like a normal person?”

“Why be normal?” Stiles pffted. “So what’s the what?”

“Scott says that he spotted something big in the preserve this morning on his perimeter run.” Derek sounded weird. “He wants us to check it out.”

“Us?” Stiles wanted to make sure. “Are you sure he said _us_?”

“Did I stutter?” Derek drawled.

Stiles leaned back against the kitchen counter and laughed. “Oh my god, look at you quoting movies and being all Pop Culture Man!”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek said, but the smile in his voice belied the words. “I’m on my way to pick you up.”

“Nah,” Stiles waved a hand. “Me and Ith will meet you at your Castle o’ Doom in twenty.”

Derek sighed. Stiles could practically see the frown lines. “I’d rather…”

“Bye babe!” Stiles had learned that preemptive action was usually best when it came to dealing with Derek.

Th’Ith Ith War

“This is why we can’t have nice things.” Stiles flung an arm out, toward the three dead deer. “You keep killing Bambi’s whole family and karma is the bitch that will slap you.”

Scott scowled at him. “I did not kill Bambi’s family!” His shoulders hunched a little and he folded his arms across his stomach. “I just found them like this.”

Stiles looked over at Erica and Boyd. They both shook their heads. “We only did the bunny run last night,” Erica said.

Stiles shuddered. “Ugh, werewolves and gryphons are the worst.”

Derek was poking at the stag’s carcass. “Smells funny,” he said. The betas all took a step forward, noses already tuned to whatever Derek had picked up.

“Stinks,” Scott’s lip curled. “Like rotten eggs or something.”

Stiles edged closer, not really wanting to look at Bambi guts. He forced his stomach not to rebel because he was Research Guy, and had to keep his shit together. It looked like something had boiled the stag’s insides. Inside it.

“Seriously, this is fucking revolting.” Stiles tried to control his gag reflex. The combination of the disgusting smell and the visuals were enough to make him see black spots in front of his eyes.

“Sulphur,” Boyd said, sniffing again. He looked over at Derek. “Not good.”

Derek closed his eyes. “Yeah, I got that.” He opened them again to look at Stiles. “We need to know what did this.”

Stiles nodded. “I guess I’d better get back to my trusty Mac and hit the Internet.” He watched Ith pouncing on something. “I’ll leave him with you, okay?”

Derek opened his mouth to protest, but Erica jumped in. “It’s okay,” she nodded to where Ith was tearing at something Stiles really didn’t want to know about. “We’ve got him.”

“Okay then,” Stiles said, walking up to Derek. “I’ll call you when I have an answer.” 

Derek pulled him close. “Be careful,” he said into Stiles’ ear. “There’s something not right about this.”

“Stiles squeezed his waist. “You know me, Sourwolf. I’m like the King of Careful.” Derek’s arched brow spoke volumes.

“Scott, go with him,” Derek ordered. “No one is alone until we figure this out.”

Scott moved obediently to Stiles’ side. “Allison?” he asked.

“I’ll let her and Chris know,” Derek said. “Lydia and Jackson too. Just stay close to Stiles.” It was less of a command this time, more of a request.

Scott smiled. “I’m the muscle.” 

Stiles glowered. “I’m not exactly helpless, dude. I have my trusty Taser as well as my acerbic wit.”

Derek snorted, but his mouth turned up in a tiny smile. “Stay safe.” This was definitely an order. He kissed Stiles quickly. “Go.”

Stiles decided that muttering under his breath would be a colossal waste of time because stupid werewolves with their stupid hearing…. He stomped off in the direction of the Hale house and Blue Betty, with Scott at his back.

They had hardly made it fifty meters when the ground dropped out from under them. Stiles yelled as he fell, arms flailing wildly, trying to find something to hold onto. He hit something hard, jarring his arm and stopping his decent.

The sight of a piece of wood sticking through the meaty part of his upper arm barely registered. “Ow.” It was a whisper, and the pain hadn’t hit yet, but Stiles knew this shit was going to hurt like fuck.

“Stiles! You okay?” Scott’s voice was panicked and breathless. 

Stiles looked over to where Scott had landed. Slightly less easily. A huge wooden stake stuck out of Scott’s thigh. The nausea that had hit Stiles with the dead deer returned with a vengeance. He tried pulling himself off the stake that had got him but then the agony swooped in. “Seriously. Fuck. How the fuck does this always happen to me?”

“Because you never look where you’re going,” Derek’s voice seemed to come from a long way up. Stiles craned his neck to look at him.

“No finger pointing please. I think Scott’s hurt pretty bad.”

Scott shook his head. “Werewolf healing, remember? I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Scott stood up and walked over to him, barely limping. Stupid werewolves, Stiles thought a little hazily.

“Can you bring him up?” Derek asked. “Or should I come down?”

“I think I can handle it,” Scott said, tugging at the wood embedded in Stiles’ arm. “Sorry, man,” he apologized at Stiles’ hiss of pain.

“Do it fast,” Stiles said. “Like a Band-Aid.” 

“I don't think you should-” Derek's attempted protest was drowned by Stiles' howl when Scott yanked the wood out.

“Your mother is going to kick your ass for stupidly bad medical aid, Scott.” Derek's growl was lower than normal. Stiles could tell that he was freaking out. “Not to mention the strip Deaton is going to take out of you.”

“Shut up, dude!” Scott yelled. “I'm trying here!”

Ith fluttered down, eyes huge and dilated with worry. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Stiles lied. “Peachy.”

“Gryphons don’t like peaches,” Ith told him and flew back up out of the hole.

Scott lifted Stiles into his arms. “Sorry man,” he apologized again. “I guess this makes you the princess?”

“Oh fuck youuuuuuuuu!” Stiles shrieked when Scott launched himself into the air and out of the trap.

Derek grabbed him from Scott as soon as he landed topside. “You’re bleeding,” he said as though this was all Stiles’ fault.

Stiles dropped his head against Derek’s chest. “Fragile human here,” he reminded Derek. “I think I may need to go to the hospital.”

“We’ll go to my house first,” Derek decided. “Get a bandage on this wound.” Stiles wasn’t going to argue. He cradled his arm against his chest, trying not to whimper every time it was jarred.

“Who the fuck would put a bear-trap in the middle of the preserve?” Erica asked as they all heading back to Derek’s place.

“Bear trap?” Scott trotted next to Derek. “Dude,” he said, face worried.

“It’s just a scratch,” Stiles tried to smile. Scott’s small smile in response told him that he’d sort of succeeded. “There are no bears in this part of California,” he pointed out, head spinning against Derek’s shoulder. So much blood. 

“Whoever did it, they just declared war,” Derek said grimly. “I guess this means shit’s coming fast.”

Stiles groaned. “Seriously, fuck our lives. Can’t we ever get a break?”

Derek looked down at him, eyes red and furious. “Whoever did this, hurt you. Nothing will stop me from tearing them apart.”

Stiles couldn’t stop the stupid smile on his face. “You say the most romantic things, Sourwolf.”

Ith flew above Derek’s head, looking down at them. “That is an acceptable response,” he said. “I will assist with the tearing. I’m very good at the tearing.”

Stiles gave a shaky giggle. “An alpha werewolf and a gryphon defending my honor. I _am_ a fucking Disney princess.”


End file.
